


what happened that day

by spacefilledeyes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Depressed Lance, Happy Ending, Hospitals, Langst, M/M, Suicidal Lance, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, klangst, this is dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 11:10:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14519235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacefilledeyes/pseuds/spacefilledeyes
Summary: Lance is done with his life.Keith thought he was getting better, better enough that Lance once more had access to razors and the medicine cabinet- the whole shebang. Keith was ever the loving boyfriend, really trying his best to take care of Lance.But Lance isn’t better. He never was.





	1. that day

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE. 
> 
> Langst is that good shit. 
> 
> Please do not read if this could trigger you. This is just a messed up way I cope.

Lance watched the door shut behind his boyfriend. Keith was going out for groceries; he would be back in a few hours at most. Still, it was enough time for Lance. 

He waited until Keith’s footsteps faded and the faint sound of the elevator’s doors closing hit his ears, and then he turned and walked to the bedroom. There, sandwiched between the wall and the headboard, was a notebook. 

It wasn’t pretty or fancy. It was a composition book you could get for fifty cents at Staples, but Lance had clearly put a lot of time into making sure the book got used. The pages were almost all full. Lance turned the pages to the very back of the book, and when he saw the pages he was looking for, he very carefully ripped them from their bonds. The edges were jagged, but so were Lance’s scars. 

The two-and-a-half pages were filled with Lance’s scrawl, so distinctive. It was a letter, clearly meant for Keith. Lance didn’t bother reading through his own words one last time. He already had perfected them throughout many sleepless nights. He clutched the paper, careful not to crumple it, and made his way to the bathroom. He made sure to lock the door behind him- just in case. 

He set the papers down on the countertop of the sink, and opened up the medicine cabinet. Very quietly, as if not to disturb the spirits that followed Lance, the Cuban reached for the top shelf, where his very strong antidepressants were sitting delicately. In truth, he had two full bottles worth of the pills: he hadn’t taken a single one for over a month in preparation for this day. 

Lance had looked up the lethal dosage and added more on top to be sure. He was ready. The day was finally here. It would only take about thirty minutes for his own body to ingest the dosage completely, and then it would be too late. 

He screwed the bottle open, his hands trembling with anticipation. What was the afterlife like? Was God going to let him into heaven with his papá? With his abuelos? 

Lance shook those thoughts out of his mind. It wasn’t the time to have a life crisis, not right here, right now. He lifted the first pill to his mouth. 

One at a time, the first bottle slowly disposed of its contents into Lance’s waiting stomach. He hadn’t eaten that day to make the job easier. He felt himself take on a slight dizziness, but he kept going. 

He was on the second bottle now. It was at this point that he thought of Keith. 

Keith. Amazing, beautiful, deserves-more-than-Lance Keith, who could probably have anyone in the entire world, yet he still chose to love Lance. To hold him on his bad nights and try and help him. Well, it couldn’t fix anything now. Not when it’s already too late. 

Lance only realized the second bottle was empty when he reached for another pill and his fingers grasped at air. He got over the surprise quickly and sunk to the floor, feeling his stomach churn. His mind was getting foggy and dizzy, too. 

He glanced over at the toilet, mere feet away. He could go over there to catch the puke when it came, but he didn’t feel like moving. His whole body felt sluggish, even the blood making its way through his veins. He felt something rise in his throat. 

It splattered all over the floor, tinged with blood. Lance stared away from the sight, becoming transfixed on a picture of him and Keith giggling, taped to the mirror, that he hadn’t noticed before. 

How long had it been? Ten minutes, fifteen since Keith left? Lance had never thought suicide would be so easy and quick. 

The Cuban felt himself drifting away. He couldn’t control it, even if he wanted to. He registered something slamming in the distance, but no matter how much alarm was coursing through him at the noise, he could make no movement. 

Lance drifted into unconsciousness as the bathroom door was broken down.


	2. three days later

Lance slowly drifted awake, the sounds of steady beeping surrounding him and a warm weight in his hand. He tried to open his eyes, only for the light to cause pain to course behind his eyelids. He groaned, alerting whoever was in the room that he was awake. 

The hand in his tightened, as if it was holding on for dear life. Lance heard a familiar voice calling out for a nurse. 

Footsteps approached, and then Lance felt people surrounding him, poking and prodding as the weight in his hand- someone’s own hand, he had realized- slipped away. Lance tried to open his eyes again, and this time was met with the faces of nurses and doctors above him. They didn’t acknowledge his eyes following their movements, so he retreated into his memory and tried to recall what landed him in a hospital. 

Slowly, everything came back to him, and he felt sick. His attempt, the pain. The utter despair he had been feeling for ages, and the suicide note he had left out for Keith- 

Keith. Where was he? Was Keith the one that found him, drifting unconscious and dripping vomit from the corner of his mouth, said substance also covering the floor with a few pages all he had as an explanation? 

Lance felt guilt, not for the first time. The doctors stepped away one by one, slowly letting him be, giving him space. 

Lance knew a part of him was angry. He had very carefully orchestrated the entire thing. How is it that he’s still alive? 

“Lance?” 

At hearing his name, Lance framed his neck to the side, the muscles stiff from disuse, and saw his boyfriend, looking at him with pain in his eyes. 

The Cuban man gave Keith a pitiful smile, no words, and that was all it took for Keith to break down. 

“I thought- I thought you were better, Lance! I didn’t see any new scars, you were always smiling and happy, and I thought everything was going well…” Keith moved closer to Lance’s bedside and gripped at his boyfriend’s hospital gown, hiccuping, and asked, softer, “Why didn’t you t-tell me?” 

Lance saw it then. The hurt in those violet eyes, the anguish at having almost lost him. And he felt sorry that he had caused that type of pain, because Lance knew Keith never deserved to be in pain. “I-I don’t know…” 

“Well,” Keith started, still upset, with tears pooling at the corners of his eyes, “You are going to therapy after this, both with me and alone; you’re not gonna have any way to self harm anymore, and I don’t think I’m gonna be able to leave you on your own for a while. Is that… Is that okay?” 

Lance simply nodded, resigned to his fate. Maybe it was for the best that he try to get better. 

Lance just had one question. “Why did you come back, Keith? You said you were going to be gone for a while few hours.” 

Keith twisted his mouth a bit before answering, “Something felt wrong. It was like someone was pushing me to go back home. I don’t know what -or who- it was, but I’m so glad I listened to it.” 

Lance exhaled as Keith continued. 

“You have no idea how much you scared me, Lance. I came in and the place was dead silent. I called out your name, but you didn’t reply. So I checked our bedroom, and you weren’t there;   
when I saw the bathroom was locked, I kicked the door down.” 

“Of course you did.” Lance smiled fondly. 

“And when I saw you, when I saw everything, I freaked the fuck out. I was a mess, Lance. You were unconscious, and there was vomit everywhere, and the pill bottles were empty, and you even left me a goddamn letter-“ Keith choked on his own words. 

Lance looked away. “You read it?” 

“I called 911, and once you were in surgery and I wasn’t a sobbing mess, of course I read it. You are so full of bullshit in that letter, Lance McClain. You are not all the things you call yourself, and I don’t know why you think I ‘deserve better than you’ or something. Look, Lance. I love you.” 

It was Lance’s turn to choke. 

“I always will love you. You’re my ocean, okay? Always pulling me in. And if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll get you to believe me.” 

Lance gestured around the room. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put you through all this-“

“What matters is that you’re still alive.” Keith cut him off. “You could throw me into the sun and I would still love you, okay? So don’t worry about what happened to me. Worry about what happened to you.” 

“Okay…” Lance agreed hesitantly. He hadn’t seen this side of Keith in a while, the nurturing, worried, wants-Lance-to-be-happy-at-all-costs Keith. Although, Lance guessed he was always there, Lance was just too blind to notice.


	3. three years later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> none of this has been edited btw it’s just a plot bunny i wanted to write out

Lance was jerked awake by a small weight being suddenly pressed against his chest. He groaned, a habit he developed when waking up, and opened his eyes. He was greeted with sunlight and his beautiful baby girl, Kai, on top of him. 

“Kai, button, what are you doing?” He asked inquisitively. 

Kai giggled, “I’m waking you and Daddy up!” 

Lance grinned at her. “Is that so?” He glanced at Keith, sleeping soundly next to him. Lance grabbed his girl by her armpits and lifted her up, depositing her as she squealed onto Keith’s chest. 

“Oof,” Keith let out, startling awake. “Oh, hi, pumpkin.” 

“Hi Daddy!” Kai said excitedly. “You said Papá would make pancakes, so I woke you guys up!” 

Keith nervously glanced at Lance, who was staring at him with a raised eyebrow, but luckily Lance played along. “Okay, go to the kitchen and wait for a sec, ‘kay?” 

“Good morning?” Keith asked more than said. 

Lance simply chuckled, “Good morning, babe.” He reached over the covers for Keith and pulled him into a kiss.

When they broke apart, Keith smiled guiltily and said, “Sorry for throwing you under the bus with the pancakes.” 

“It’s fine, babe. You know I probably would have agreed to anyways.” Lance replied, entwining his hands with his husband’s. “Let’s not keep her waiting.” 

Keith nodded, and the couple finally moved from the bed, following Kai into the kitchen. 

Kai was the most beautiful child in the universe to Lance. She was about five, and after Keith and Lance had gotten married a year and a half ago, they had adopted her at age four. She had grown up in the orphanage, her mother having died during birth and her father putting her there. It had been a pain in the ass for Keith and Lance to find an orphanage that wasn’t homophobic, but it was worth it to have Kai. 

She was energetic and friendly, just like Lance, and she was of mixed-with-Chinese descent with beautiful brown eyes and black hair. She was a petite thing, small, but a ball of energy. Keith was teaching her Korean, and Lance was teaching her Spanish. By the time the girl would hit middle school she should be trilingual. 

Kai was waiting for her dads, and jumped up in excitement when they entered the kitchen. “Papá, I got the pancake mix out for you!” 

“Aww, thank you darling!” Lance grinned, swooping his child up in his arms for a bear hug, Kai squealing the whole time, before setting her back down. Keith watched with a shine in his eyes. 

As Lance made the pancakes, he put on some harmless music and danced to it while he made conversation with Keith and Kai. 

At one point, Kai’s curiosity got the best of her, and she piped up, “Papá, what are those lines on your arms?” 

Lance froze for a second, sharing a glance with Keith. Keith gave him a look that said it was up to Lance what he wanted to say.

Lance motioned for Keith to take over flipping the pancakes and crouched in front of Kai to be eye-level with her. 

“I’m going to be honest with you, Kai. Sometimes, when people are very, very sad, they do bad things to themselves because they don’t know what to do. Papá used to be sad like that.” Lance waited for her reaction. 

Kai’s face twisted in confusion. “Papá, are you still sad?” She asked, clearly worried. 

“No button, I’m not. I’m very happy now,” Lance said with a soft smile. 

“Okay.” Kai took Lance’s hand in her own tiny one and brought it up to her mouth, kissing the wrist where a prominent scar rested. “All better.” 

Lance’s heart melted. “Yes, button. All better.”


End file.
